What Am I NOT Afraid Of?

It became apparent very quickly that there was not very much that Annie was not afraid of, aside from being with other dogs. The list is long, but these were the readily evident fears:

Going Through an Open Doorway
Under no condition would she cross a door threshold on her own. She would get as far as the edge and then freeze. Any attempt to move towards her and take her across was met with an instant dashing away as far as she could get from you. My research said this could be a problem as they seldome get out of their cages, except to be put into a room for breeding purposes. And in many cases that was achieved by kicking or pushing with your feet. To get her into the house was always a production, as she preferred to stay outside. If she could have her way, she would never come inside. Even in the pouring rain and in terror she would run when lightening and thunder struck, but she would not cross that threshold. She instead began to dig out a crawl hole under the front porrch, where she would back herself in, face forward. I am fortunate that she did not take to biting, or I do nto know how I could have gotten her out. Barricading the crawl space was ineffective and she would find somehwere else to build a burrow. To get her into the house was always a game of chasing her, until she would simply submit by hunkering to the ground and going dead weight. I recall many times telling her as I would carry her (the option was to drag her as she would simply be frozen into a rigid state of fear), up hill, sometimes the full 3 acres of property, that she would be the cause of my death from a heart attack. Once inside the doorway, she would run to the furthest corner from the door. If the door was opened, she would run at top speed for the slightest opening to get outside. After a few months I installed a doggie door, in the hopes she would get used to the freedome to come and go and not have to go through the chase-me chase-me routine. It took a while, and she had a very curious manner of using the door, by peeking in first tosee if the coast was clear. Later she would chase Clive to the house and then push her head through the doggie door and bark inside.

Fans

Oscillating or ceiling fans always cased her to go in the most round about path to avoid being anywhere near it. A ceiling fan would result in her lowering her body as close to the floor as possible and scampering to an area out of the room preferably, or to a corner, where she would watch the fan. Turning it off was no help. I swear she could spot a fan in a room and in fact I suspect she did a room scan specifically, to see if there was one there in the first place.

Treats
We have a habit of giving the dogs a treat, dental bone or something similar after their dinners. They all know this and await their treats, sometimes barking to remind you that you have not done this yet. In her case, there was simply no way she would take this from my hand. I would have to throw it, which then caused her to cower and run away. This in turn gave the others a chance to run and scoop her treat from the yard. It took many many months to get her to actually stay in sight of me when I arrived with the treat. And then she would only approach the treat if I took myself out of sight and no other dog was present. Despite months of this routine treat giving, she would still only take a treat when it was tossed into an open area and you left the area.

Food
Feeding had to be done the same way as the treats. Put the food in a bowl, place it in an open area and leave. Your presence would keep her at bay from the food. And of course, the others would see this as an opportunity for an extra meal. She was so non-assertive, that she would simply sit and watch as the others would quickly eat her food. Even if she had begun to eat and one of the others showed up, she would leave the dish. This was a problem as the other dogs had a habit of eating from their own dish and then doing a dish rotation of going to the others dishes and snacking on whatever was left. In some ways Annie's bowl was like hitting the jackpot, as it may still be full.

Men
Annie was always leery of men and especially men in fedora or cowboy style hats. I found this out by accident one day in the rain, as I had an Australian Akubra hat that i would put on in the heavy rains when I went to feed the livestock. She had been with us for about three months by then, and was actually getting to the stage of following me around the property, normally at a distance of about 5 meters.. I had yet to see her tail in any position except down or tucked under her belly. It had never been seen wagging, and I thought I would never see the day that it did. She had no problem with approaching with great caution any women that may come by, but she just did not approach a man under any circumstance. By this time she had discovered her capacity to bark and you could always tell if a man had come to the house, as she would let out a bark. It was strange at first as it sounded very strained and pitched. And then one day it seemed that she had discovered she had this capacity and she would use it to full advantage. Normally always at Clive.

Barking at Clive

Many a time, he would go out and I would hear this incessant barking going on and on and on. It was, on occasion, cause for some heated discussion with me to "do something about your daughter". Telling her to be quiet never worked. If you moved towards her she would simply increase the distance and keep barking. My physical presence sometimes had effect, but not always. Normally Clive had to go inside or somewhere out of her sight.

Anything to Declare?

Our stops for pee and water went fairly well. It is difficult when you travel with 3 brand new dogs, that you know not much about and have to stop in some barren snow covered area and try to open the truck, get them haltered and out. For the most part Dixie and Grace seemed happy to get out, pee and demand back inside right away. Annie however made a few bolts for freedom. During these episodes, I got to see her panic response. She would run and as soon as you gave chase, she would simply freeze on the spot, and hunker to the ground. Trying to lift her was problematic, as she would also go dead-weight.

The SUV had a cage screen between the front seats and the back seating area. I began after each pee break to rotate them one by one to the front passenger seat, where I could talk to and pet them. Grace and Annie were always happy to go to the back seating area at the next stop. Dixie however settled in and decided that her rightful place WAS the front passenger seat. Having transported dogs, who I suddenly found were prone to car sickness, I had equipped myself with paper towel, spot lifter and plastic bags and had one incident on the road home.

We made out way across the cascade mountain ranges and the cold and snow and suddenly as we came through cascade fall sin Washington state, the sun broke out, the snow disappeared and the sight of green grass and clear skies was welcomed. I now had to go to opening windows for air. The girls this time when they got to have a pee break were more inclined to take their sweet time. The weather and the feel of fresh cut grass between their paws was much more appealing than the feel of ice and snow. And we found ourselves hitting the outskirts of Seattle on a Friday afternoon just as rush hour traffic was beginning to congest out of the city, stopping for our final pee in America at Bellingham and making our way to the Canada/USA border station. As usual for a Friday evening, by the time we got to the Sumas-Huntington crossing, the line-ups had started and the girls were restless, pacing and whining as they tend to be inpatient with the stopping motion of the vehicle.

It was my luck, as usual to have the border guard who seemed to be taking a very long time to process people, as we watched the lines to the left and the right proceed through at a much quicker pace. I tend to always stay in the line I have chosen, as I have changed before and found myself being questioned about why I had chosen the particular lane I moved to. It was with a heavy degree of suspicion in the tone to the question, and I found myself being sent inside. I felt it was more to prove to me that line hopping would do noting to speed up my crossing. I do honestly sometimes cross the border and purchase nothing I am coming back with, but this seems to send off some alarm bell. I have always been truthful at the border, even declaring excess, and fully prepared to pay the taxes and duties. I always have believe that it is better to do that, than to not do it and have always found the response quite positive from the border guards. So I rolled up eventually to the window, with all of my paperwork in hand. The man in the booth, seemed very official, asking me all the usual questions. I passed the paperwork for the dogs and he asked why I was bringing dogs into Canada. A brief discussion ensued about rescue dogs and bassets in particular. He took out a long yellow card and began to write on it. Apparently the total fees I had paid for the adoption, were in excess of my allowable purchases for being out of the country less than 48 hours. My only "goods to declare" were the dogs. He glanced back at me, and then said, well they give me a degree of discretion, so I will allow you to go this time, and then tore up the card, dropping it into a trash bin and said "go!". As I drove up the highway, it felt good to be back home, and I told the girls they were now officially Canadian. Night had fallen and we made the 25 kilometer trip in good time, arriving home to the greeting party of Byron and Molly.

The Journey Home

Early the next morning, I made my way back to WARB to pick up the girls. Pat was as gracious as she had been the day before. We went through the paperwork, certificates, adoption, vaccinations and receipts. They all got new collars, a supply of food, micro-chip identification. We all went to the living room, where I sat on the big chair and the girls all piled on me for a photo opportunity. Then loaded into the SUV and we began the journey home. The snow fall of the previous evening had left just a dusting, and as we pulled away the large flakes began to fall.

Unlike the trip down, I had decided that it best to drive straight through to home, with no overnight stays. Luckily the Washington State highways have perhaps the best rest areas anywhere. They have areas to exercise and poop and pee your pooch! And so the road trip began with obligatory stops of drinks and pee's. A little romp and back into the SUV to the next gas station or rest area. The romping was fairly short lived at some places, due to the cold and snow.

Hoar Frost decorates the Pet Area sign

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So Many to Choose

On this particular day, there were about 16 bassets in every shape and colour who found themselves resident in WABR. Some as young as under one year to Oscar, who Pat described as being "older than dirt". My arrival had triggered the basset baying and as soon as I crossed the gate threshold, I was suddenly surrounded by wagging tails, and excited hounds. Not a glimmer of aggression as they all pushed and shoved for a scratch or a pet.

Lady (Annie)(L) Grace (C) and Dixie (L on the futon)

I had long ago come to understand that the best way to communicate with a dog is to get to their level. In the case of a Basset this is somewhat more difficult, as they are typically built very low to the ground. However, lucky for me there was a full sized futon set up in the middle of the room.

From Auction to Rescue

The exact history of Annie prior to her rescue from the Washington Basset Rescue, may never be known. But what is known is that she was a three year old lemon (white with tan markings) female basset hound. She was found at a dog auction. This is a place where people who breed dogs go to sell them off. In her case, and those of her companions on that day, she had herniated, others had herniated or had mastitis of the breasts. All as a result of continuous breeding.  Incidentally, the spaying of a female dog reduces the risk of this form of cancer by 50%. So, continuous breeding in effect increases the potential. The places where they are held are referred to as puppy mills. At the dog auction, she would be sold of for medical research. her usefulness to this world was finished in the eyes of the breeder. She could no longer breed and the expense of having her medically treated was cost prohibitive, against the revenue she could generate producing those cute little basset puppies, you see in the pet shop windows around the world and pay significant big bucks for the purebreds. But she still had some revenue in her, by being auctioned off and then sent to a lab to be used as a test animal.